My Heart Made Wise
by CarefulMimicry
Summary: Fenris returns after three years and decides to go after Hawke himself, seeing as the man won't step up and do anything. Things would be much easier if Anders didn't keep interrupting. **PLEASE SEE END OF CHAPTER 4 UPDATE!**
1. On Reunions

Three years ago Fenris ran. He had just ripped out the heart of a hated, vile woman and, when that didn't solve all of his problems, he had yelled at Hawke and run. Hawke, to his credit, had not stopped him, had raised a hand as if to speak but had simply let the breath out as a sigh as Fenris had stormed out of the room.

Three years ago Fenris had abandoned the only friends- no, the only family he had ever known and yet they had not abandoned him. Hawke's presence right at that moment was proof of this.

The other male stood before Fenris, pressing a heavy volume into his hands. He was saying... something. Fenris was too busy existing in a state of disbelief at the Champion's presence that he missed the other male's entire speech. His furrowed brow and delicate grip on the leather-bound book, as if it might bite him, seemed to clue Hawke into the fact that Fenris had missed something.

"Books... You read them? Surely you've heard of the things."

"Yes, Hawke, I have heard of _books_. I was a slave, not a lackwit." His tone was, perhaps a bit too icy, too sharp because he saw Hawke visibly flinch, his face twisting into a grimace.

"Well I got you one. It's about Shartan, the leader of the Elven slaves who joined Andraste's rebellion."

Fenris gave a soft sigh, even after running away, even after the cruel introduction upon his return, Hawke was nothing but soft-spoken, kind, hopeful. It was as though he- Fenris stopped himself. Hawke did not _care_ about him. Why should he? What was so worth caring about?

"I am aware of the story, it is the method in which you have delivered it that I am unfamiliar with." At one time he might have been embarrassed to admit that he could not read, when such things came so easily and simply to his companions. After his years in isolation he realized he had lost much of his shame. He had been a slave, they all knew, slaves were not afforded many luxuries. It would not be a surprise that reading was certainly one of them.

Hawke took a moment to process what Fenris had said, sorting through his words to discover their true meaning. Fenris did feel just a twinge of anger as, when the realization finally dawned on his mage friend, his eyes flashed just a moment of _pity_.

The two began to speak simultaneously-

"I do not need your _pity_ , Hawke, I am-"  
"Then I guess I'll just have to teach you."

Fenris paused his rant mid sentence, "What?"

Hawke shrugged as if it were the easiest thing in the world, "I'll just have to teach you." His old smile crept onto his lips and Fenris wasn't quite willing to admit that his heart did _absolutely just flutter_. But the momentary weakness was hidden by a quiet clearing of his throat.

"That is quite unnecessary. I do not wish to waste your time."

"Oh please, no time spent with you is time wasted!" Hawke had said it with a light laugh and flip of his hand but when his bright, blue eyes met Fenris' sharp green ones they both paused, the room suddenly going still and silent, the air feeling so _heavy._

Fenris was suddenly acutely aware of just how close they were. They were but a foot apart, one of the mage's gloved palms flat against the book in the elf's arms, pressing it against his chest as if he might reject something so precious and rare. His other hand, that damned appendage with it's strong but somehow nimble fingers, was resting _just so_ on his shoulder.

If he closed his eyes he could almost feel the heat from the Champion's hand seeping through the leather glove, the spiked metal armor and all his layers of clothes beneath. Fenris' breath was perhaps a bit too heavy as he imagined that hand much closer to flesh. Hawke, for his part, seemed transfixed, standing frozen in this moment, this moment that was stretching into eternity here in the mage's living room.

And suddenly the guilt was washing over him. Guilt for running away, guilt for putting them all in danger, guilt for not believing they were kind enough or strong enough to handle whatever his former master could dish out. He needed to apologize, he needed to say _something_ needed to break this tension, to let Hawke know how sorry he was, how much he wanted to take it all back.

"Hawke," the scruffier male blinked a couple of times, eyes never leaving his, "Hawke, I'm so-"

"The door was half flung open as a disheveled and agitated Anders strode unhesitatingly across the room. Immediately Hawke jerked away from him and Fenris wanted to growl, want to snatch those hands back and make Hawke listen. It was that or thrust his hand through the blasted abomination's chest and rip his corrupted heart out for so carelessly interrupting.

"Here you are! I've been looking all over Kirkwall for you."

"Fenris did feel a small smirk of satisfaction cross his lips when Anders paused, if only for a moment, when he saw the elf's presence. "I need your help, if you have just a moment?" Hawke looked at Fenris and gave a small 'well what can you do?' shrug and light roll of his eyes. The action ripped through Fenris' lithe frame, a gesture just for him. A little moment that was just theirs, something for him to cling to, to hold close to his heart and cherish.

"Hawke turned slowly, "Well, we can continue later, I'll meet you at the library this time tomorrow, okay?" Fenris just nodded, glaring down Anders as he brushed almost viciously past the other mage and out of the Amell estate.

Fenris wasn't sure of much after these long years apart, but the one thing he did know for certain was that, as a freeman, it was okay to want. And, Maker above, he _wanted_ Hawke.

He wanted the man, and he would have him.


	2. On Forgiveness

They didn't meet at the library 'tomorrow'. They didn't meet at the library the day after that, either. Or any time at all for the next two and a half weeks. It was as if Anders' singular request for potion supplies had sparked the whole city to remember all of their petty grievances. Petty grievances that, Fenris thought sourly, they thought were important enough to pester the Champion of Kirkwall with.

But Hawke was a good soul, a good person and, regardless of how seemingly ridiculous the askance, he was immediately off to help in any way he knew how.

So it went for 18 days. 18 days of adventuring, murder, theft, smuggling, and just a little bit more murdering thrown in for good measure. Once they were done for a day and had returned home it seemed that everyone and their mother had something to do with Hawke. Varric had ale to drink and stories to invent for his novel. Isabella had knife coin and card tricks to teach, as well as planning for various smuggling and piracy jobs. Aveline needed help with managing a city that was quickly trying to turn against her. Merrill had a Dalish clan to make up to and lead, all with absolutely no people skills and nothing but the hatred of said people.

Then there was Anders. Anders seemed to take up the most of the other male's time. There was always something for them to do, it seemed. He would teach Hawke new spells, or how to handle his magic better. They would discuss the Grey Wardens and what Carver would be doing and experiencing, and how the elder Hawke could keep in touch with him. They talked about the politics of Kirkwall and the growing frustrations of both mage and templar. All the while Anders was sure to smirk wretchedly over at Fenris until the elf grew angry or tired of the abomination's stupid games and just leave.

It was on the 19th day that Hawke had appeared at Fenris' doorstep with a sheepish smile and apologetic shrug asking in his every boisterous way, "So, today is yesterday's tomorrow, yeah?"

Fenris just stared blankly, one dark eyebrow arching delicately in question. Hawke wrung his hands shamefully and tried again, "I said we'd meet 'tomorrow' and read at the library- or rather, start your lessons. Well, obviously that didn't happen but every day is a 'tomorrow' for the day before it soooo..." He let the note hang, eyes pleading with Fenris to understand.

The elf just shook his head, a light smirk catching one corner of his mouth as his hair fell in a curtain across his face. He turned, letting the door swing lightly closed, and strode back into the mansion. He could almost hear Hawke disappointed and self-deprecating sigh.

By the time Fenris had returned to the door with book in hand the other man was halfway down his front steps, muttering and cursing at himself for his foolishness and stupidity.

Fenris easily caught up and puffed a lock of hair out of his eyes, "So that whole 'today is some day's tomorrow' speech was all what, lies?" Hawke jerked at the sound of Fenris' rumbling voice and a wide grin drew across his face, scrunching his nose and crinkling the corners of his eyes. "You closed the door, I thought you' had enough of me and my foolhardy ways." Fenris just rolled his eyes and picked up the pace, allowing himself a small moment of satisfaction when Hawke laughed a little and jogged to catch up.

A couple of hours later found the pair lounging at the library, Hawke reclined back in a heavy, oak chair, his feet propped on the table, carefully weaving a coin between the fingers of his left hand then trying to make it disappear into his shirt Fenris was being honest, he was not doing a very good job of it.

He quickly turned his attention back to the tiny book in his lap, some kind of children's literature to help one learn the alphabet and all of it's sounds. The simple, often alliterated sentences sounded silly in his deep, gravely voice, but Hawke didn't seem to mind, just nodded along with they rhythmic, rhyming patterns. "Sally skips, singing soft, sweet songs." He pauses and frowns, the words are slow and awkward, taking ages for form carefully on his tongue before he will allow them to slip into the world.

Again, Hawke doesn't seem to mind. In fact, Hawke was barely taking notice of him at all. It wouldn't bother him so much, he swore, if the mage wasn't willing to give his full and undivided attention to every other nameless urchin on the streets of Darktown. As it stood that was exactly what Hawke did and Fenris was finding that it was starting to irk him.

Two weeks had almost crushed the hope right out of him, Hawke barely sparing him a passing glance, a half-hearted comment. Hawke abandoning him time and time again to sit with his other companions. Hawke lending everyone else his full attention because everyone else had something to give back. Stories, plans, intelligent conversation, whatever it was Fenris knew that he had nothing. He had ridiculous sentences any one of the others could read in their sleep yet took him two hours to stumble over. This was the perfect picture of a waste of time.

"Careful, face might get stuck that way."

Fenris snapped out of his reverie, feeling the tight scowl ease from his face. Hawke actually looked up for the first time in over twenty minutes, "Whoops," he sighed and looked almost sympathetic, "Too late."

He slapped his knee and laughed. Fenris forced a tight smile then turned back to his book.

Hawke struggled to regain his composure for several long minutes before finally wiping a tear from his eye and sighing. He noticed Fenris' less-that-please demeanor and cleared his throat, giving a permissive wave of his hand,"Alright, alright I'm done, I'm focused, what's got you stumped" He leaned over the corner of the table, pressing his side against Fenris in order to get a good look at the word the warrior's finger was frozen on. "Fair, I don't think we've covered that sound yet."

Fenris felt the hum of the Lyrium in his skin responding to the easy rolling of magical energy that radiated from Hawke. If he hadn't known better, if he hadn't felt the way the markings responded to magic he would almost dare to say it was... pleasant.

His breath hitched just slightly, and Hawke's arm was so warm against his, his hand so gentle as it met his on the parchment that he almost missed the next words he spoke, "So the th," Fenris leans in closer, the moment feeling quiet, intimate, private, "makes a-" and here he makes a lisping sound, "That. Stupid, I know, but there's life for you. That's life with an f by the way, not a ph." Hawke smirked to himself in smug self-satisfaction. Fenris did not understand the joke but has not the patience or energy to question it.

But then Hawke looked back at him and Maker is his smile froze Fenris for just a moment. Before Fenris had time to catch himself he returned the wide, open smile with a small one of his own. That seemed to satisfy the other man and he withdrew, leaning back into his own chair, knees propped up against the edge of the table, body slouched low in the wide chair.

"Look," The sudden word startled the still lingering grin off his lips, "Who are you and what have you done with my Broody?" He chuckled but Fenris missed it, mind hung up on the 'my'. He almost growled as he shook his head lightly, he needed to stop this. Nothing Hawke had said or done in the past two weeks had at all indicated any form of interest towards Fenris. If anything he only seemed to be showing more attention to that horrid abomination that he insisted keeping company with. That, in combination with his more recent musings his confidence and assertion were failing and all the Lyrium-coated warrior wanted was to finish up this tedious exercise and return to his home.

"Are you distracting me from my studies on purpose? Or do you honestly forget we're here for a reason?" Hawke's laugh slowly died and a small smirk lingered in it's place. He flicked his hand in a noncommittal wave and allowed Fenris to continue the story.

Fenris did try to keep reading. But at every page turn, at every colorful picture and or quiet scoff from Hawke at a particularly outrageous sentence he found himself thinking more and more just how very nice this all was. Just the two of them. A time just for them. Hawke may be bored and frustrated but it was still a time for them and that just... that just felt good. In that moment Hawke was his.

"I know I'm stunning but it was you who just pointed out how we had a purpose here." Fenris hadn't realized he'd been staring. He cleared his throat, quickly going back to the book once more. Before he could start he felt a gentle, but insistent finger hook under his tattooed chin, pulling his face dark, smooth face up to meet Hawke's rugged one. "Is everything alright?" He let his hand drop back into his own lap, face the very picture of concern, "You seem awfully distracted."

"Is this really what you want to be doing?" He wasn't sure where the question cam from but once it was out it hung heavily in the air between them. Hawke had the where-with-all to at least appear surprised, "Fenris, yes, of course... Whatever brought that up?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe it's that I ran away without a second thought for you or anyone else but myself and it took three years to return? Maybe it's that you look as bored as if Sebastian himself was trying to lecture you in the ways of the Chant of Light-"

"You must admit his accent just makes you so sleepy once he starts all that monotone driveling-"

"-and all I can offer back is a swift 'thanks' and a door in the face." He hadn't actually meant it to come across as an accusation but his temper had caught the better of him. The whole speech just made his mind tear itself apart even more, here he was, returning this kind man's favor with what? Caustic accusations and cruelty. More than that he was lashing out at the one thing he ever remember wanting. Shoving it away as if it was instinct, as if he knew Danarius could reach out across the sea and snatch it away still.

"So, first off, we all have problems. And sometimes the only way we learn to deal with them properly is to run away for a bit and then come back to them when we've had time to think. Second I'm not bored I'm just... ya know... fidgety!" He wriggled around in his chair as if to emphasize the point, Fenris managed to withhold the smirk this time. "Third I have plenty to learn from you. You've taught me all about strength, determination and the horrors that can come from the frivolous use of magic. You've given me a respect for my own power I never really had before."

Fenris sat rigidly in his chair for a long time, not meeting Hawke's eyes, not knowing what to say. What was there to say after that? What did those bottomless, questing eyes want from him? One strong hand reached out to him, gently sweeping away the shock of white hair hat had fallen into his eyes, rough fingers grazing his forehead just so. Fenris turned his eyes up to meet Hawke's once more, a confused frown wrinkling his brow. Fenris opened his mouth to speak but it was as if he'd thrown his voice for the moment he did someone else called out from the other side of the aisle of books.

"Hawke!"

The both jolted, spinning to quickly face the intruder, Fenris' face hardened, the Lyrium lines turning to steel as his face froze over with the approach of Anders.

"I thought you'd be here, no one else had seen you except to say you'd gone to talk with-" he waved his hand in Fenris' direction and the elf very nearly growled, his tattoos glowing low and threateningly.

"Well if you've been looking for him it must be so important. Please, allow-" here he mocked the gesture Anders had used to reference him just seconds ago, "to leave the two of you alone to talk." He made to walk away but stopped himself, allowing a slow breath before looking down at Hawke, genuine warmth flooding his face for just a second as he murmured, "Thank you, again, for helping me. It means-" He pauses, eyes locking on Anders before he finishes, "Gratias, Valea, Hawke."

Fenris lifted his book carefully from the table and strode out, a thousand emotions of confusion, want, doubt and frustration swirling through his very core, ripping him apart, chewing him up from the inside out.


	3. On Realizations

"No, try again." Fenris' deep, rumbling voice was barely a whisper, the bridge of his straight nose pinched between two nimble fingers. Hawke braced his hands on his knees, sweat rolling down his forehead, "Hey now-" he panted, his jovial tone sounding more defeated than combative, "You weren't even watching that time!"

The elf just glared at his human companion, "I don't need to watch to know you, once again, did it wrong."

Hawke let out an exasperated sigh and laughed manically, dropping his staff to the ground and throwing his hands into the air. "What do you want Fenris?!" He gasped in a breath in between words and exhausted bursts of laughing, "You want me to be perfect? You want me to just tie a dagger on to the end of a staff and magically know how to fight like a maker-taken Grey Warden?! For fuck's sake, how long did it take you, you didn't just wake up one morning and know how to fight, I bet!" The second the words left his mouth he wished he could take them back. He clenched his fists, squeezed his eyes closed, "Fenris-"

"Shut up and pick up the damn staff, Hawke." Anything light or playful had left the elf's voice, and when their eyes met his were cold and hard.

"I'm sorry..." Fenris did not reply just watched until the human bent down and retrieved his discarded staff. Without another word he retreated to the far side of the sandy plateau they had found to practice. Once again he attempted the form Fenris had taught him, spinning, jabbing and swinging his staff around. But he still wasn't used to the added length of the dagger on the end, and as he swept it up from under his arm the blade caught on the dirt and ripped the wood out of his hands and flung it across the makeshift arena and at Fenris' feet.

Hawke cried out, kicking at the ground and cursing at the sky, stress, hunger, heat and a poor teacher finally ripping apart his last ounce of sanity. He was mid-cuss, mid-kick and two seconds away from collapse when a steady, cool hand pressed against the back of his neck. Hawke raged on for a few more seconds but eventually quieted, standing sullenly in the beating sun, head dropped, allowing his companion to sooth him with a simple, gentle touch. After a few moments the mage felt his staff pressed against his chest. He took hold of it but shook his head, brushing the other's hand away. "Fenris, really, I can't do any more..." And maybe his voice was just broken enough, maybe he looked just pathetic enough but the elf grunted in concession.

"Come, I'll help."

Hawke wasn't sure why but something in Fenris' voice washed over him, pulling his head up, and his body back to the edge of the clearing. When Hawke arrived next to Fenris, the elf waved a hand absently, "Set." Hawke sighed and did so, positioning himself in the proper position to begin the form. He was about to begin again when he felt two cool hands slide down his arms and a lithe form press against his back. His breath caught high in his throat and he held back a soft gasp as Fenris fitted his body flush against his own. His hands were rough, calloused from years of fighting, and he laced their fingers just slightly, so that if Fenris opened or closed his hand, Hawke would end up doing the same.

Hawke felt a shiver run through his body as the feel of those hands, gentle but powerful, strong. He wasn't sure what was suddenly stirring within him- well no, he knew exactly what was stirring, he just wasn't sure why. Fenris' breath was hot against his ear and neck, his voice deep and rumbled through Hawke's entire being, "One, two- go." Fenris began to move and Hawke relaxed, allowing his body to be manipulated by the man behind him..

He hadn't realized how strong the elf was, how precise and in control his slight form was. But here, like this, he could feel his muscles rolling, tensing and twisting against him and Maker above, if he wasn't careful parts of his own body would begin... tensing. Hawke managed to control himself and they continued to move together, spinning, slashing, stabbing and spiraling the staff-turned-blade as one. When finally the form ended they both stood panting, pressed together, Fenris' body curved against Hawke's as a shell, Hawke arched back against the other man.

They stayed that way for a long moment, sweating and catching their breaths and, a small part of Hawke, just enjoying the contact he hadn't realized he'd wanted to badly. He'd realized a long time ago… years ago now. But Fenris had always seemed too distant, too prickly, too… too Fenris, and he hadn't even bothered trying. Now he wasn't sure. Perhaps it was the heat or the raging hunger and thirst or just the position and the exhilaration of training but he could swear that Fenris had just gripped his hands a little tighter, pressed their bodies together just a breath closer.

But just as quickly as the moment happened it passed and Fenris was clearing his throat, pushing away and turning to pace back across the dirt circle. "So- ah… That's how you do that one…" He coughed a little, wiped his brow and seemed to be putting as much distance between them as he could manage, suddenly shy, embarrassed. Hawke nodded, shrugging, what he hoped was, nonchalantly and looking down at his modified staff, giving it a few one-handed spins before looking up to meet Fenris' eyes.

Andraste's tits the pure heat that met his gaze nearly knocked him back a step. Instead he took in a quick, shakey breath and advanced a step towards the elf. "So-" his voice was unsteady and wavering, he let out a cough and tried again, "So now that I'm a vastly skilled, trained and deadly blade fighter am I now allowed to fight up on the front line?" Fenris scoffed, but didn't break eye contact, just as entranced by the moment as Hawke, "Yeah, okay, so long as I'm holding on that that damned staff for you and moving with you."

Hawke had been taking slow steps forward and now the gap between them was significantly smaller. Once he was about two feet away he paused, almost gulping as he mustered up the courage to take another step forward, "Now, Fenris.. I know I'm just the most handsome man you've ever laid eyes on, but if you want my body all you have to do is ask." Their faces were at most a foot apart and Fenris growled, "Shut up, Hawke."

He reached out, grabbed the back of the human's head and brought their lips crashing together. Fenris' lips muffled Hawke's quiet yelp, which quickly dissolved into a moan as he felt the elf's other hand reach out, tangle into the front of his shirt and pull their bodies flush with a rough, yank. As their hips met Fenris let out a low moan and Hawke took advantage of his parted lips to push his tongue inside. The other man was quick to respond, stroking his own tongue along Hawke's, caressing it, and tangling with it. Hawke's arms wrapped tight around Fenris, one digging into his hair, to hold their lips together in a brutal meeting, the other around the small of his back, keeping their bodies flush.

Fenris let out a growl that rolled through Hawke and shot straight to his cock, which Fenris immediately noticed, causing him to smirk into the kiss. He dropped one hand to Hawke's hip and used it to maneuver the other man's hips into a grinding, pressing rhythm. The feel of the elf's hardening length against his own caused Hawke to gasp and drop his forehead to the other's shoulder. Fenris just groaned and-

crack

-jumped away, shoving the human away from him, eyes snapping to the path that lead back to the city, from where the sound had come. His body was tense, alert, ready for a fight, all traces of the moment they had just shared gone, shattered on the dusty ground and scattered by the wind. Hawke took a second to recover but in a flash his discarded staff was back in his hands, at the ready.

A figure rounded the bend in the path and immediately Hawke relaxed. "Anders! What can I do for you?!" His voice was too high, too forced, too happy, he sounded half hysterical. The other human didn't seem to notice and immediately set off on a tangent. Out of the corner of his eye Hawke noticed Fenris give a withering glare at Anders before he set about packing up their training site. He also noticed, however, that the elf didn't simply storm off this time. Instead he plopped down on a stump and munched absently on a loaf of bread and some water they'd brought with them.

He also noticed the sheer possessive look in Fenris' eyes every time the emerald green orbs met his own blue. And every time he had to hold back a shiver and bite back a groan.

Hawke was starting to find himself very fed up with Ander's horrible, or perhaps conveniently perfect, timing.


	4. On Frustrations

In the past several weeks Hawke and Fenris had spent every moment of precious free time... _studying_.

In the Amell estate library Hawke would sit close to Fenris, so as to read along with his spoken words. And with every successful page read his hand would slide just a little higher up the elf's thigh. Clench just a little tighter in the strong, firm muscle. Slip just a little farther towards the inside. And with each movement Fenris would clench his fists a little more, furrow his brow harder to stay focused on the pages and their fanciful script. Hawke would whisper next to his ear, gentle corrections, his hot breath searing a path down his neck, causing goose bumps to raise on his arms, and the small hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end. Eventually this would be all too much, Hawke would dance just a little too far and Fenris would rip the man from his seat and press their lips together in a bruising kiss. Their hands would fumble with buckles and cloth to find flesh and just as Fenris' mouth closed on the human's neck with teeth and tongue- they would be quickly and awkwardly jerked apart by the damn Abomination's voice, calling for Hawke as he rounded the nearest set of shelves.

* * *

On the dusty clearing by the water Hawke would practice his formations. He was getting better, more used to the added weight and length of the blade on the end of his staff. He would spin and stab, slash and unleash a burst of ice or fire. And with every successful completion of a formation on his own Fenris would approach. The elf would press his lean form tight to Hawke's back, pull him easily back against him and wrap his hands over the mage's. With careful, slow instruction they would move together, Hawke all but moaning at the feel of Fenris' hard body pressed against his own, Fenris taking every ounce of self-control he had not to shove his companion against the nearest tree, bend him forward and _take him_. Eventually their thoughts would consume them and Hawke would drop his staff, turn around and pull Fenris to him. Then, just as kissing was becoming no where near enough and both were considering how much cover the trees surrounding them provided- the rustle of dirt and pine needles would force them apart with lingering looks of desire and desperation as Anders rounded the bend in the path.

* * *

Presently the entire adventuring gang were sitting in The Hanged Man. Varric and Isabella flanked Fenris at the bar, who was glaring death at Anders and Hawke, who sat at a table across the room. They were huddled close, murmuring about Maker-knew-what. "There's a fine line between sexy, sultry brooding and ugly ole' jealousy and you are walking it with abandon right now." Isabella raised a pointed eyebrow at Fenris and flicked her head in the direction of their intrepid leader and the healer. Fenris just made a rumbling of discontent deep in his chest and turned to face the bar again. "Yeah, Broody. Look, you've got him. You can't see the way he looks at you in combat. Andraste's tits, I should bring a handkerchief to keep him from drooling." Varric smirked and elbowed the elf playfully, Isabella just laughed, "Or an extra crossbow to pick up the slack when he forget he needs to be casting spells." The dwarf joined in on her joyful chuckling this time.

After a few moments, when the laughter died down, the pair noticed that Fenris was still scowling a hole into the grimy countertop. The trio sat in silence for a minute that seemed to stretch on into days before Isabella finally cleared her throat, "I know it's hard, Fenris-" She paused to giggle, "Hard, you're hard, hahah-" but a stern look from Varric snapped her attention back on track. "I know it's hard, to see someone you care about with their ex, but you gotta know that it's not like that between them any more." There wasn't silence between them any more, there was that terrifying, deadly calm before the hurricane swept through. Varric realized the mistake before Isabella did and was quick to reach out to the elf, "Hey now... Hey now lets not get crazy, okay Broody? It's nothing like you're thinking, I'm sure."

Fenris slapped the dwarf's reassuring hand off his arm and spoke in a quiet, dangerous rumble, "I'm sorry, but are you trying to imply that there is any other way it could be? Or does _ex_ mean something different to pirates? You'd better give me a damn good reason not to walk over and rip that abomination's heart out right here in the middle of the tavern. All the shit he's pulled? Constantly pulling Hawke away from the group, taking up all his attention, pretending I don't exist, _the way he touches him?_ It was all an annoyance before but now... Oh the little shit had better be-" Fenris was rising, turning, ready to stride right across the room and make good on his word when-

"WICKED GRACE?!" Isabella had a wide, fake, overexcited smile slapped onto her face as she clapped her hands together in joyous laughter. "Why _Fenris!_ I bet we'd all _love_ a good game! WHO'S IN?!" The rage in the elf's eyes did nothing to dissuade the growing excitement as the group quickly gathered around a table. Merril, Aveline and Donnic had all been drinking and chatting in the corner but were the first to push tables together and gather the chairs. Fenris tried to snag a seat next to Hawke but Isabella half checked him out of the way to take it instead, muttering to him under her breath, " _You need to cool the fuck off._ " She then plopped down and pulled a deck of cards out of... well, Fenris wasn't sure where but she pulled them out of somewhere, "I've got the cards!" Everyone immediatly began a chorus of protests and accusations of cheating. With an exaggerated pout Isabella slipped the cards back into.. well into wherever they came from and allowed Varric to deal. "Not that his are going to be much better, I'm sure." Aveline quipped, causing a low chuckle to round the table.

Hawke waved the barmaid over for two rounds of drinks and winked at Fenris, who simply glared sternly back before looking down at his cards.

* * *

Hours passed and everyone got very drunk. Except for Fenris who, while tipsy, was still sober enough to see the way Anders kept leaning progressively closer to Hawke. The way his hand would brush Hawke's on it's way to grab his pint, the way his eyes would linger on Hawke whenever the male spoke or played his cards. But mostly he saw the way that Hawke did nothing about it.

Aveline was the first to turn in her cards, "Donnic and I have... better things to do than spend the whole night with you lot." Varric laughed, and Isabella's cat calls chased them out the door and probably halfway back to Hightown. Merrill just gave a great yawn and put her cards down, as well. "I should be heading out, too. Hawke, will you still help me tomorrow?" Hawke looked blearily over at her, as if this were the first time he was hearing the request. "Uh... Yeah!" His surprise didn't hinder his excitement in the least, "I said I would, didn't I?!" Isabella frowned slightly, "Hawke, you have no idea what you're agreeing to..." He shrugged and clapped her on the shoulder, "Doesn't matter!" He slurred, "A friend in need is a friend indeed!" The pirate rolled her eyes, dropping her face in her hands, "That saying does not mean what you think it means."

"Well, in any case... I should get going." Merrill side stepped her way around the table sheepishly, only stopped by Varric's raised hand, "Carver's not here to walk you back. Take Anders. He's in need of a good night's sleep right about now." And, indeed the mage was slumped in his chair giggling quietly at his cards. But the sound of his name snapped his head up, "Oh- I wsh..." He paused, moving his lips and tongue as if they were too fat to make the noises he needed them to before trying again, "I was going to walk Hawke home. The path up to Hightown is scary these days." Isabella put a firm hand on Fenris' shoulder to keep him in his seat, "Fenris is here, he lives in Hightown as well, so it would be most expeditious for him to walk Hawke back, and Merrill can stay with you at the clinic for tonight."

Anders made to protest but Merrill already had his hand in hers and was chattering brightly away as they exited. Hawke gave a great yawn and a stretch as he stood, "Well then!" His voice too loud in the emptying tavern, "Fenris! Shall we!" He bowed mockingly and offered his arm to the warrior. Fenris nodded his appreciation to Isabella and Varric then stood, gripping Hawke's bicep in like a vice and dragged him from the tavern. "Woah boy!" Hawke chuckles, making horse noises, "Calm down, we got all night-" the conversation was cut off from the rest of the tavern as the door swung shut behind them.

* * *

Halfway up the back ally from The Hanged Man to the Amell estate, Hawke had to stop to retch, the alcohol finally catching up with him. He they stayed on the ground, whining for Fenris to carry him for another ten minutes before the elf finally complied and hoisted him up bridal-style to finish the trek.

"Oh Fenris... Oh my dear Fenris, my hero, my _savior!_ " Hawke wailed, throwing his arms dramatically around his companion's neck. Fenris just grumbled and kept trudging forward, "Oh, I am so wounded, so hurt and you are here to carry me to safety! Oh glorious day!"

"It is night."

"Oh Fenris," Hawke swooned, lolling his head against the elf's strong arm, "Don't you know, _my darling_ , that the moon is only the night's sun?"

"It is not."

Hawke didn't let this fact deflate him, "Well you are still carrying me to safety! Though I be mortally wounded surely there is some way I can repay you." Hawke made an exaggerated kissing face and accompanying "smoochy" noises.

"You are not. You are just drunk."

The human pouted in his arms and sighed loudly, "You are just no fun at all."

Fenris gently kicked open the front door to Hawke's mansion and stepped inside, using his foot to close it after himself.

"Yes, I'm sure the Abomination was much more jovial." He loosed his arms, depositing Hawke on the floor of his living room, then promptly stepped over him without a second's hesitation to build up the fire a little, so that Hawke's Mambari would not get cold. "Get up, you can walk just fine."

Hawke's fall had sobered him up quite a bit, added with the sharp words from Fenris he was nearly out of the booze-y haze entirely. "Hey now, that's no way to talk about Carver." Fenris just glared. Hawke raised his hands in assesion and headed towards the stairs, "Come on, no need to argue down here where we'll wake the whole house up."

* * *

Hawke opened his bedroom door for Fenris before following him in. Hawke had just opened his mouth to speak when the wind was knocked out of him as Fenris slammed him back against the door. Both the human's hands pinned in one of his own, his other hand tangled tightly in the hair on the back of Hawke's head. "So is that why you keep helping him? You spend so much time with him, sit so close, let him touch you the way he does, rubbing your shoulders, stroking your arm, putting his hand on you knee? Is that why you keep letting him interrupt? Because you want him to be jealous? You want him to fight to get you back or something? Is that all I am a tool? A distraction? Or a temporary replacement?"

"Fenris!" Hawke gasped, in shock, in pain and, a little part of him had to admit, in arousal. "Fenris that's not it at all, I don't want him."

Fenris sneered at the other man and shoved his body tight up against his, "You don't but your body does." He kissed Hawke hard, grinding their hips together, dominating him. The kiss demanded everything and gave nothing and it's force and passion pull a long, low, needy moan from Hawke, if he wasn't sober before he certainly was now. And as he tried to take something back from Fenris, take as much as was demanded of him the elf pulled away.

"I will make you forget _he_ even exists. I will take every place he touched you and make it mine." It was a low growl deep in his chest and Hawke could feel his knees shaking with the pleasure of that sound, "I will replace every memory of him so that all you will know is _me._ I will show you what pleasure is and by the end of the night the only word you will know is _my name._ "

 **(A/N: I apologize, I didn't realize MA content was not allowed on here. To read the next chapter of this story go to Archive of Our Own OR Adult Fan Fiction** **, the story is still called My Heart Made Wise.**

 **I'm sorry for the confusion. I promise it's worth it? I think it's worth it. I'm sorry to let you all down and not post it here.)**


	5. On Home

Hawke awoke the next morning to a tuft of white hair tucked against his shoulder. The pair were curled together, legs a weaving tangle beneath the sheets, arms draped haphazardly over each other. HIs chin on Fen's head, the elf's face buried in his neck. Hawke hummed low and happily, moving carefully to roll away- or at least attempting to but Fenris tightened his arms and drew him back. Hawke chuckled and allowed himself to be pulled flush against his lover's warm body, allowed the other to capture his lips in a sleepy, stale kiss that had the sharp tang of last night's activities. Hawke didn't care, he sank into it, pressing himself closer to Fenris, his arms winding around the warrior's lean, muscular frame.

"Mmmm, Fen..." He managed to murmur against his lips, "We should wash up. We need to get to the hanged man to figure out how to deal with this Bone Pit problem." Fenris pulled away and began lazily showering kisses over Hawke's neck and shoulders. The human closed his eyes and dropped his head back, exposing as much of the bruised skin to Fenris' questing mouth as he could. "Feeeen-" it was half a whine, half a moan and he felt the jolt that ran down the elf's spine at the sound. "Washing..." Fenris whispered against the hollow of his throat, "Hhhmm... Yes, lets wash up." The smirk he gave Hawke was nothing short of devious and he somehow managed to gracefully tumble from the bed and tug Hawke after him to the bathroom.

A few minutes, some passionate kissing and a rather well placed wall, later found Fenris pinned and half moaning, half growling as Hawke attacked a trail of lyrium that ran tantalizingly low over his hips. "Hawke... Hawke the tub is full, we really should get ready. People will wonder..." The mage scoffed and rose to his feet, flicking a hand at the water to warm it with a easy burst of magic, "Let them wonder, I only just got you and I am going to have you until I can't walk straight." Fenris raised an eyebrow, "You already can't walk straight." Hawke pouted and frowned, "You ruin all my fun, just let me be sexy Maker-damn-it!"

Fenris just laughed and sank into the tub, "You already are sexy. No need to try and force it." His eyes trailed every inch of the lean, perfectly masculine form standing over him, "Fuck, Garrett-" He dropped his head back, unable to resist running a hand up his thigh, stroking his quickly hardening cock. Hawke just kind of stood and stared, almost drooling, eyes enraptured by the vision of this man of muscle and power stroking himself, unable to control himself with just the sight of Hawke's naked body.

"Fuck, Garrett, get in the fucking tub."

Now it was Hawke's turn to chuckle as he slipped in, straddling the elf's lap, "You only need ask."

"Venhedis. Fastevas, you are insufferable." Their lips crushed together and Hawke moaned loudly and watonly into the kiss, pulling back only far enough and only long enough to whisper hoarsely, "That is hot. You should use Tevene more often." Fenris ran a hand down Hawke's spine and gave his ass a squeeze, groaning softly at the tight, firm muscle in his hand, "Amatus, bese formosus, volo te." Hawke's whole body shivered, "Mmmm, you're going to tell me what that means later, because right now you're just going to fuck me."

Fenris have a predatory smile, "I will not 'just' do anything. If I'm going to take you then I will take you." Hawke grabbed the elf by his hair and pulled him up for a deep, feverish kiss, "Good."

* * *

After a bath that was cold long before either male even considered getting out of, the pair were groggily pulling on hastily discarded clothing.

"It's a good thing we always wear armor. Means we only need one set of clothes. No walk of shame!" Hawke beamed at Fenris, who was securing the first of his spiked gauntlets. The elf looked over at Hawke and smirked, "Well, not for me at least." His gaze flicked pointedly down at several deep bruises on the side of his neck. The mage just winked, "Who says I'm ashamed?" He sauntered over to Fenris, hips swaying and then braced his arms on either side of the bed where he was sitting, "To be so clearly claimed? Fuck, I'm turning myself on again just thinking about it."

"You are insatiable."

"Mmmhm, and are you man enough to keep up?"

Hawke found himself pinned to the bed faster than he could blink, "Do not tempt me, mage." Hawke wriggled his hips against the elf's and tossed his head back against the sheets, "And if I do?"

* * *

Fenris groaned as he bent over to retrieve his discarded gauntlets, every muscle, bone and fiber of his being was deliciously aching and tired. Hawke was still splayed on the bed, one arm thrown across his eyes, "Are you sure we have to go?" Fenris gave a small smile and tossed the mage's robes on top of his naked body, "Yes. Get dressed. I will wait in the parlor so as not to be a distraction." Hawke began half hearted protests but Fenris just rolled his eyes and strode out the door, closing it with a curt click.

Hawke made a few more whining noises to see if his lover would come back in but was in no such luck. He slowly got dressed cursing Fenris up and down for his stupid, stubborn, practical ways. When he was finally clothed he skipped down the steps and they left, walking just close enough for hands to brush with each step, to The Hanged Man where the gang would be gathering shortly.

Hawke was the first to enter, all smiles and boisterous excitement upon seeing Isabella and Varric already sitting at a large table, waiting. "FRIENDS!" He held out his arms and strode over, giving each a bear-like hug. Isabella spat her drink clear across the table as Hawke approached, and let out a ringing laugh that could probably be heard halfway down the street. When he embraced her she ruffled his already tousled hair, "Mmm, he is thorough isn't he?" She lightly flicked one of the purple welts on the side of his neck and winked at Fenris, "A masterpiece, my dear." Fenris held back the proud smile and just put on his usual scowl, offering only a shrug.

Merrill arrived shortly after and fawned over Hawke for nearly five minutes, fixing his hair, giggling, poking at the marks on his neck. She beamed at Isabella, "Well it's so sweet, isn't it? After all this time?" The pirate smirked and patted her thigh, "So sweet indeed, kitten." Varric scoffed, "I'm not sure sweet is the word I'd use." Isabella gave a devilish grin, "Have you no sense of romance, Varric? To claim and be claimed, fuck and be so truly fucked. There's no sweeter thing in the world. Except for maybe a nice boat. Something long, and big, plenty of girth and power to 'er. Something that'll roll over the waves and plough right into a good storm. Great sails a-billow, charging over a roaring ocean..." Her eyes were distant and her voice far away, as if she were seeing it all, right there in the tavern. Varric just started at her, one eye wide in confusion, "Well now I'm not sure what she's talking about any more." Isabella gave him a playful scowl, "A girl can dream can't she?"

"About a boat or a boat?"

She winked, "Yes."

They both laughed and Merrill, only half understanding, joined in the merriment for the sake of merriment. Fenris and Hawke plopped down at the table with a round of ale (wine for Fenris) for the table. "So, I what's so funny?" Hawke inquired, taking a swig from the drink. Varric smirked and shrugged, "Oh, you know, Isabella and her boats."

Fenris pointed at her, "Boats? Or boats?"

Varric, Isbella and Hawke all answered together, "Yes." Causing another eruption of laughter from the group, even tugging a quiet chuckle from Fenris.

"Careful, Broody, your face might get stuck that way." Varric quipped, followed quickly by Isabella, "And then how would you pull of that dark, sexy man of troubles and mystery bit that you do so well."

Merrill cocked her head to the side, "I think his face is more like to break if he smiles too much."

Isabella laughed harder, looking to Hawke now, "And wouldn't that be the biggest shame of all, no more mouth to suck your-"

Anders half burst though the door, breathing heavy, a crooked smile on his face, "Did I miss something? I heard laughing." He strode over to the group and froze, eyes locked on Hawke's neck. Fenris gave an all-too-innocent smirk, "You going to sit, mage, the day is getting on and I'd like to get this Bone Pit mess cleared up. I have other things I'd rather be... doing." He gave a pointed look at Hawke and then turned his smirk back to the Warden across the table. Anders seemed about ready to lunge across the table and strangle him, his fists clenching and unclenching frantically by his sides. Hawke was too busy whispering huridly to Isabella and Varric to notice, Varric scribbling just as hurridly on a piece of parchment, Isabella cooing and making soft sounds of pleasure. Hawke paused, leaned in close to the couple and whispered one last thing before sitting back and smiling, eyes finding Anders, "Oh, hello! Have a seat!" At the same time as Isabella practically screeched, "NO WONDER I'VE HAD SO MUCH TROUBLE GUESSING!" Her eyes flashed with delight as she looked over at Fenris, "Oh you naughty, naughty elf."

Fenris flushed red from his cheeks to his ears and leaned over to have a few key words with Isabella as Hawke rose and followed a fuming Anders to another table for a few key words of their own.

Isabella pressed a finger to her chin and gave a dark, sultry smile, "So, Fen... How does your Lyrium work with Hawke's magic. I can only imagine how... interesting it could be." Fenris tried his best to keep a straight face but among a table of rogues even the slightest flick of an ear is as bad a tell as a smile or wink. Both the pirate and Dwarf clapped and pounded the table respectively, "Atta boy! That's thinking with the right head!" Varric chimed in, clapping the elf on his back and taking a deep swig from his drink.

Fenris looked over his shoulder back at Hawke and Anders, deciding he needed to stir the pot just a little more, rub the point in just a smidgen, tell him in the most subtly unsubtle way possible to back the fuck off. He cleared his throat, "Hey, Garrett, you gonna join us so we can figure this stupid mine problem out?" Isabella, Varric and Merrill all froze and went silent, the weight of that name hitting everyone, not just it's intended target. Hawke looked back at Fenris and tried to give him a look of pleading exasperation to leave Anders alone but only could manage a poorly subdued giddy smile. Anders, for his part, cleared his throat murmured something and half stormed over to the table where the group was sitting, followed closely by Hawke.

"Right, so this Bone Pit business..."

* * *

The entire trek to the now abandoned mine saw Isabella, Varric and Hawke laughing and jesting, Fenris tromping ahead trying not to smile and feel so fully satisfied with himself and Anders at the back with Merrill trying to console him.

"It's not so bad. You'll find someone. Just not Hawke, yeah? Love is tough sometimes, Carver and I have a rough go of it now that he's a Warden but he loves it so much... Isn't that what counts? That the person you love is happy? I think that's what matters. And Hawke is happy. So it's not with you but that's okay because something things just don't work out. There's someone for you, though, Anders, I know there is, you've just gotta-"

"Shut up, bloodmage!" Everyone stopped in an instant and turned to look at the rigid, aggitated Anders and the poor elf who made the mistake of trying to be cheerful. Varric, always the peacemaker, stepped forward, "Now, Blondie, she's just trying to help. You know how Daisy is." Then the fight broke out. Anders yelling at Varric, Isabella yelling at Anders, Varric and Merrill trying to calm both of them down.

Hawke meandered over to Fenris and smiled, taking his hand in a loose grip, "So..."

"So..." Hawke felt chills run up his spine as that deep voice rolled into his ears.

"So once we kick Danarius' ass are you going to stick around? Or are you going to run away again?"

Fenris stepped forward and rested his forehead against Hawke's, grazing his armored knuckles gently over the mage's cheek briefly, "Vos es meus domus." He gifted Hawke with a small smile, "Nunc adeo vos." Hawke's smile was small but so full of love and appreciation and wonder that Fenris felt his heart give a strong beat before it melted into his gut. The human raised his hand to cup Fenris' cheek and kiss him softly, "I love you, too."

Fenris' smile faded but a light ignited in his eyes and he nodded, pressing a kiss to Hawke's brow.

They broke apart as the fighting died down, Isabella looking angry and frustrated, Varric and Merrill both haggard and exhausted and Anders on the verge of losing control, his body giving brief flashes of blue. "Maybe today isn't the day to go adventuring?" Merrill suggested quietly. Hawked surveyed the scene and scratched the back of his neck with a shrug, "Sure. They're all dead anyway, the dragon can wait a day!" He beamed, clapped Anders on the shoulder and strolled off down the mountain. Fenris smirked as he passed, smugness roll off him in waves. Anders moved to lash out at the elf but Varric stayed his arm, "Let it go, Blondie. You had your chance. You're just angry that Broody was able to see past his prejudices to make Hawke happy. You're so filled with righteous anger I sometimes wonder if that's all you've got driving you forward to each new day. Hawke is happy, so should you be. It would do you good. Go... buy a cat or something. Learn to lighten up. You know it's a bad day when Broody is less... well, broody than you." He clapped Anders on the back and followed the others back down the path towards Kirkwall.

Anders stood a moment, scuffing his feet in the dirt. Justice was silent, for once not berating him for his stupid worldly obsessions and needs. Those things that distracted him from the real important things in the world, the real problems. And in the silence Anders had his own thoughts for the first time, in a long time. And for the first time, in a long time he allowed himself to feel the pain of giving up, of letting love go. Of letting hope die.

* * *

Back at the Amell estate Hawke and Fenris stretched out in bed, sheets tangled around their waists, sweat cooling on their bodies, breath slowly returning to them.

"Fenris?"

"Hhhm?" His green eyes were closed, hands propped behind his head.

"Could you try to not taunt Anders?"

Fenris cracked on eyes open and rolled his head to look at his human companion, "Why would I ever do that?"

"Because we all need to work together and... please? I still care about him and I don't enjoy seeing him hurt. For me, please just leave him alone? You had your fun, made your point."

The elf let out a slow sigh and reached out to tug Hawke to him, curling up protectively behind him, one arm draped over him to hold him close, "As you wish."

Hawke smirked deviously and slowly stretched in Fenris' arms, his ass pressing pointedly against the warrior's groin, "Oh, as I wish, eh?"

Fenris chuckled darkly and rolled on top Hawke, kissing him firmly and growling out a low, "Festis bei umo canavarum." Before capturing Hawke's following moan in another kiss.

"I know I am the most handsome, stunning and talented mage in the world!" Hawke chirped once he'd regained some composure.

Fenris merely scowled and hissed a low, "Shut up, Hawke."

"Awwwh, see, you do love me!"

Fenris didn't reply, simply proceeded to kiss him into silence before flopping into bed next to him again, too tired to even try to stir his body into arousal.

Hawke continued to tease and taunt him but Fenris sighed and curled up around him, a protective shell and let him talk himself into sleep. Once more, once his breathing had evened out Fenris placed a gentle kiss to the top of his head and nuzzled his nose into Hawke's hair, "I am yours."

(A/N:: Thank you so much everyone for reading and commenting and following and favoriting and all that, it means so much to know that people enjoyed this. Once again, if you would like to reach chapter 5 (VERY NSFW) then go ahead and find this story on Archive of Our Own or Adult Fanfiction. Otherwise I hope you liked this final chapter and the story as a whole. If any of you have any requests or fills you'd like let me know! I'm bad at coming up with ideas so anything you'd like to see would be wonderful to write.

Rough internet translations are shitty and so here are shitty and rough translations of those translations:

bese formosus, volo te :: You are handsome, I want you  
Vos es meus domus:: You are my home  
Nunc adeo vos :: Now I run to you  
Festis bei umo canavarum :: You will be the death of me)


End file.
